Fuck. It’s Vidar. News? What does that even mean? I open the door lest I seem distrustful.
“Good morning,” I tweet, forcing brightness.
No smile from him—just a brow furrowed with worry.
His massive form fills the doorway.
“Morning. You are summoned.”
“Summoned? By who?”
“My father, of course.”
His father. Of course.
“What does he want?” I ask, hoping for a hint. Surprisingly, a feral grin grows on Vidar’s face.
“He wants to talk to his slave, Kilda. I think he is worried, and that makes me worry for you.”
The word hits me like a punch to the gut. Slave. The word—a stone that sinks to the depths. I have no choice. I can be summoned, dismissed, honored or humiliated. I am Sigurd’s slave. He can summon me to fuck me if he wants.
He can fucking try.
A chill runs down my spine as I control my voice. I refuse to show Vidar my fear, and I’m not crazy enough to show him my anger. Inquisitive and interested, that’s the tone I’m going for.
“Worry for me? I talked to him yesterday. He said?—”
“Kilda…”
Vidar steps forward, sending my system into high alert. I take a quick step back, crossing my arms over my chest.
He stops mid-stride, holding his smile. I blow out a long breath.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
He laughs—enjoying my discomfort. Vidar enters my house. Without being invited. I’m forced to move out of his way. He looks around him, keeping his smile. Teeth bared like a predator on the prowl.
My house? What a joke.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m with you, remember?”
That’s not what it feels like. It feels like he wants to show me where I belong. Under his heel. In his fucking dreams. A flame sputters in my chest. I imagine screaming at him to get the fuck out. Pulling him out by his stupid fucking braid.
He turns suddenly, his expression serious.
“I want to help you, Kilda, but I can’t protect you if you don’t play along.”
“Play along?”
“How long can the jarl tolerate your insolence? The slaves are uneasy after your whole scheme.”
“I was trying to?—”
“You told me already.”
His eyes lock onto mine. The friendliness from just days ago is gone. The flirtatious demeanor has evaporated. This is who Vidar is, an extortionist. It feels like he’s hunting me. This must be what his enemies see before they are chopped apart in battle.
He shakes his head like a disappointed parent. Fingering a dried yarrow stalk from the table, he puts it against his nose and inhales.
